Broken
by balletismyobsession
Summary: Even the strongest have their breaking points.


**I don't really know what this stemmed from... It's not canon timeline so keep that in mind. I think I explain everything so that won't be too confusing, but separate it completely from Glee. Um... well I guess, enjoy the angst?**

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Blaine had always been good at hiding his emotions. He had to be, with his bullies and his father and the life he lived where he was made to exceed unrealistic expectations. If he didn't hide how he felt, he would be eaten alive, so he learned to suffocate his feelings, stuff them away in a corner of his mind and leave them to be forgotten. But try as he might, he couldn't forget.

And it wasn't just his emotions that he hid. He changed subtle things about himself to fit what he thought was right. When he transferred to McKinley, he dressed differently than he would have otherwise. His hair was in a different style now. He acted differently. He could pass off the change as wanting to reinvent his style for public school, but he was such a good actor when it came to himself that no one questioned it. Not even Kurt-the only real friend he'd been able to make so far-and it was better that way.

He thought that he could beat himself at his own game. Staying securely behind the veil of the lies he'd built, he thought he would be safe. But the walls were thinning and he knew it.

With Kurt on his right and an empty chair on his left, he fidgeted with his shirt hem, crossed and uncrossed his legs, and picked at his nails. It hadn't been a good week at all and he just wanted sleep. His eyes darted around the classroom, looking at everything and nothing in an attempt to look busy. He sighed, fixing his gaze on the whiteboard. Now he could pass for bored. But the way his hands kept moving about would give him away, so he settled for adjusting the strap on his bag for something to do. Thankfully no one seemed to be paying much attention to him. He could feel Kurt's eyes on him every once in a while, but that much he could deal with and ignore.

Mr. Scheuster entered the classroom with a clap of his hands and a look on his face that Blaine had grown to hate even though he'd only been here a few weeks. It was the look that meant their teacher had thought of something, something that would surely be torturous in the coming song assignment for the week.

"Alright guys, I have something new for you to take on. Now it's come to my attention that as a group, we are only as strong as our weakest link, so…" he turned and with a flourish, scribbled a word on the board. "Weakness. I want you all to think hard about this and sing a song about what you feel your personal weakness is. This is meant to be challenging so take it seriously and really look inside yourselves. Once we can all identify what makes us weak, we can use it to make us stronger and as a team, we can truly strengthen each other. Got it?"

Murmurs of agreement were heard about the room but Blaine was still staring wide-eyed at the board. Weakness. This was bad.

"So everyone, find a partner or by yourself, and start listing some ideas."

Blaine heard Kurt turn towards him.

"So, partner, what do you say we get started?" There was a smile in Kurt's voice and a hint of laughter that was so intriguing but even Kurt's voice couldn't soothe the panic inside his head.

He barely glanced up at Kurt, the words drumming in his mind.

"_You're pathetic. You're weak and you'll always be weak until you learn. And you're not going to learn when you keep disobeying, do you understand? I forbid you to act on these delusions. You're making your mother sick. And did you stop to think what your brother has to endure now? It's a wonder he isn't the laughing stock of the Academy! Dalton Academy is in our blood. The Anderson family is well rooted in having Dalton as the beginning of our education and you're tarnishing our good name. Is that what you want?"_

He blinked, his father's face swimming from his mind, and he realized Kurt was waiting for him to say something. There was a look of concern on his face. Blaine could feel his walls crumbling, shattering. He tried to swallow but his throat was closing up, his face getting hot, and his eyes were glazing over. No, no, no. Not here. Not now.

So he stood, still clutching the strap of his bag tightly and walked out of the room as quickly as he could, ignoring every word spoken as he left. He heard his name but it did not register as he ran to the nearest bathroom, so relieved that it was empty. His bag slipped to the floor and his hands gripped the porcelain of the sink tightly. The room was spinning, his collar much too constricting, and everything seemed to be shrinking around him.

The roaring in his ears was barely penetrated by the sound of the door shutting and his name. His head flicked up. He didn't even realize he'd been crying until he noticed he had to blink multiple times in order to see straight. It was Kurt. Of course it was Kurt. He couldn't see him like this, he _couldn't_.

"Go away," he hissed harshly as he wiped his hand hurriedly across his face.

"Not until you tell me what's wrong."

There was hesitance in the voice, but also patience and determination. Kurt wasn't going anywhere and Blaine knew it. And that scared him.

"Didn't you hear me? I don't want you here!"

"I know that you're lonely," Kurt said gently, his voice the calm yin to Blaine's fire-raged yang. "It must be hard, having to transfer and leave all your friends. Bullies are awful, trust me, I know. This school must seem like a dump compared to private school, but I've been where you are and it's not a good place to be in. And I've found some of the best friends I could ever hope for here. You just have to give it time."

Blaine's eyes narrowed, the desperation flashing through in a strength he didn't know possible. This boy, the first person he'd felt semi-close with, cared about him, wanted him to be okay, chased after him to tell him not to give up. And all Blaine wanted was to push him away. "I don't need your help. I'm broken. Can't you see that? You can't fix me!" He pulled his hands away from the sink, wanting so badly to punch something but he curled his arms around himself and leaned against the wall.

"I don't want to fix you," Kurt said so softly and Blaine had to stare at his lips to make sure the boy had even said anything.

"Then what do you want?" The question wasn't as rough as Blaine had intended and he kind of surprised himself. The words were spoken with a rough need and ache to belong. It was almost painful.

Blaine narrowed his eyes to punctuate where his words could not and found himself staring into Kurt's wide blue eyes.

"I want to be your friend."

Those words seemed to shatter something inside him, something he didn't know was there. He was breaking down now, though trying desperately to hold it in, and Kurt still wanted to be here, to help. He'd never had anyone care about him this way. To see him at his worst and drop everything to even see if he was okay.

And Kurt stayed there for another moment longer, waiting for a response that wouldn't come. Blaine could feel himself receding into what he was before: scared, alone, unable to look past a world where he was nothing. But Kurt was changing that, even if he didn't know it. Kurt had offered to be a friend, something Blaine had never really hoped to dream of. He'd had friends before, but none of them had ever seemed to want anything more than to discuss their girlfriends or parties or new material things they bought with their parents money. But Kurt was different. Even now, Blaine knew that Kurt was different without a set reason as to why.

A cold paper towel was held out to him and Blaine took it slowly, the thoughts still reeling in his mind. "Hold it to your face for a bit. It makes the redness less noticeable."

With a soft smile that held a touch of pity, Kurt was gone and again, Blaine was left alone. But oddly, he didn't mind the pitied smile or the slightly dripping towel in his hand. His heart was pounding as he pressed the towel to his right cheek, unsure of what he was going to do now. He'd lived the life he'd been given and that sure as hell wasn't going to be where he would end up.

No, Blaine wasn't going to go back to that. And maybe he didn't have to. Maybe he really could find friends here, finally settle somewhere, and not ever have to relive his past.

He'd been broken before, and he still wasn't whole, but maybe here, at this public high school that had seemed no different than every other school he'd been to at first, he could start to heal.


End file.
